Finding Myself
by MissShips-A-Lot
Summary: My parents didn't accept me for who I was and it all lead up to sitting at the bar, drinking like I hadn't in years, drinking away my emotions and sorrow, drinking away the pain that coursed through my fragile body, and drinking away the sensation of feeling like you're not good enough. I was doing all of it, and I wasn't going back to my old ways any time soon.


**Author's Note:** I have six fan fictions I haven't finished, so here's one of them I decided to get done. Yey.

* * *

"Another Jack's, I guess, please."

These words have been said too many times so far. I had stomped into this bar a few minutes ago, and there were already two shot glasses sitting on the counter in front of me. My elbow was perched on the table and my head was set lazily in my hand as my head slowly started to spin, my whole body aching and my hands burning from the cold I had just endured.

I was a miserable excuse for a human being at the moment; I had stormed out on the people I trusted most in my life...well, I was actually kicked out, but you get the point. My parents didn't accept me for who I was and it all lead up to sitting at the bar, drinking like I hadn't in years, drinking away my emotions and sorrow, drinking away the pain that coursed through my fragile body, and drinking away the sensation of feeling like you're not good enough. I was doing all of it, and I wasn't going back to my old ways any time soon.

A glass was slid across the counter towards me and I was startled by it, reaching out a shaking hand to grab it. I immediately chugged all of it and set it down.

At first I didn't register it, but the bartender slowly walks to where I'm sitting, cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. He puts a gruff arm on the table and I snap out of my thoughts. He sighs, putting the glass and cloth on the counter next to him and I look at him attentively.

He looked like a lumberjack, straight from the movies. You could see all he's been through just by looking at his face; dark purple shadows were under his brown eyes, red scratches and scars covered his forehead and he looked greasy, as if he hadn't showered in days. If someone looked at him out of context, they'd be questioning if he had a violent past or not.

"Life givin' you trouble?" a think Scottish accent rings through my ears and questions me through a thick, red beard, scanning me up and down. I move my gaze down to the three glasses that sat in front of me and pursed my lips.

"I guess you could put it that way." I say solemnly.

He chuckles, then lifts his arm off the countertop and sighs again. "Just keep in mind, it gets better." he chuckles, then walks off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

If I didn't know any better, I would stay here and drink all night like I typically would, shamelessly crying away my life in steady flows of alcohol and tears, knowing I've gone too far to come back, but...this time is a bit different, apparently. I pull my wallet from one of the back pockets of my jeans and dump the rest of the money onto the counter, which is at the most, ten pounds. Of course that means I don't have enough to pay, only by a little, but I still panic.

He looks at me with a questioning eye from where he's standing, his glare piercing straight through me and I become nervous.

"This is all I have at the moment," I bay weakly and ramble on. "I'm sorry, if you could just-"

"Ah, no worries, boy." he walks around the counter as he smiles, giving me a ginger pat on the back. "You usually don't leave this early, so I'll give it to ya'."

I give him a thankful look and put two fingers to my forehead to let them off sharply in his direction, signaling I'm grateful, and stumble out the door of the run-down bar.

I immediately feel the cold air hit my skin and hiss, cursing at myself for not contemplating anything before pulling the door open and rushing out of the flat. I was never too quick-witted in that sort of way. The wind blows through my jet black hair as I start to tread on my way to...nowhere, I guess. I sure as hell don't know where I'm wandering off to or where I'm staying for the night. I don't know what to expect, so I simply sigh heavily and watch my breath become a smoky grey in the cold, doing spins and twirls in the air above me.

It's busy this time of night in London, the faint lights and voices in the distance, the sound of wonderful music being played from apartment complexes and the twinkling stars in the clear night sky give everything a light-hearted and joyful hue, and it was especially wonderful when intoxicated. I love this part of town in the evening, anyway.

I take a few more wobbly steps and realize there's a bus bench a few yards away and mentally sigh in relief, acknowledging the fact I probably won't have to walk any farther; my head ached and my body was so shaky and weak. Taking the bus to somewhere interesting sounds like a decent plan and I start to walk faster.

I eventually reach the bench and collapse onto it. _A few drinks later and my head is already spinning?_ I laughed at myself for the fact that I'm such a lightweight and put my hands in my pockets, slumping against the bench and closing my eyes. In hindsight, things could've gone a lot better if I wasn't so immature with my emotions. I guess I have to take into consideration the fact they were the ones who bashed on me, myself, who I am, who I want to be and what I can't change, but ultimately, I could have gone up to my room and forgotten everything until morning, where I would just have an awkward breakfast with them and go to a friend's later or something, but I guess that was a little too harsh. My parents were the sort of people who could be incredibly temperamental with their opinions if they wanted to, and I guess tonight was one of those times.

"Bastards." I spit, becoming a bit irritated with these contemplations. "I don't know why it all had to change because of _that._"

My mind is surging with thoughts when I hear a distinct, sort of raspy voice from beside me.

"I recommend going inside; talking to yourself in freezing weather isn't going to help any of your problems."

I turn my head to my right to see another man, probably around my height and age, looking off into the night sky. I question the situation and continue to look at his strangely skinny figure. He's clearly poor or homeless, judging by the looks of his clothing and skin, his greasy, matted hair covered by a fluffy brown hat. Tattered jeans and a stained, grey shirt cover his body for the most part and his hands are in the pockets of a torn, green hoodie that's obviously a couple sizes too large.

I turned away and huffed, "What the hell do you know?"

He chuckled and turned to face me, but kept a deadpan façade as he spoke, "Where'd you come from anyway? I'm sure there are people back where you reside that are worried about you."

"Well you'd be completely wrong," I shot back sharply.

"Uh-huh. Sure," he mocks, making me raise my eyebrows and sigh relentlessly, agitated by his very presence. I purse my lips.

"You don't even know me."

I can practically feel the smirk that blankets his face as he laughs again, "Does it matter?"

I think, but give in and resort to a deep sigh as I put my face in my hands. He simply walks to where I'm sitting and sits down along with me, putting a hand on my shoulder and looking to the ground. "Dan," he says modestly.

I looked up after an awkward few seconds and surrendered to just having a normal conversation with the guy, "Phil."

He smiles and I feel the warmth rise on my face. Frankly, I've never met someone so collected. He dropped his hand from my shoulder and onto his lap, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Well, Phil, you should really go home now. It's freezing-"

"No." I cut in.

He intakes some air, "You'll regret this decision." he says as he breathes out and shakes his head.

"I know," I admit. "But life goes on, right?"

He grins and leans back against the bench, crossing his legs and sighing. "It really is an insane world out there, and sometimes, you just sort of find yourself in situations like this, not knowing what to do, y'know?"

I beam perplexed at where this conversation is heading. "I guess, but...what are you getting at?"

He chuckles. "Trust me, Phil, I know what I'm asking about."

I look him up and down before pursing my lips and turning away again, looking up at the stars. I sigh. "I really just don't know where I'm going in life, lately," I confess. "The world is full of possibilities, and I waste it, drinking away all my troubles. It's become a habit."

'Oh, yes. I know where you're coming from," he reckons. "Sometimes, you just don't _have_ anything you can do. Like me; I've been homeless for about two months, and I can't really use the advancements of technology, and I certainly don't gain instantaneous respect from the people here." he hesitates, but speaks again. "I've been thrown aside like a piece of trash all my life."

I look to him, seeing tears form in the brims of his eyes as he looks down, but he wipes them away immediately and pulls himself together. "Sometimes, you just have to find your own beauty in the world."

By now, the people that were once walking the sidewalks and filling the atmosphere with chatter and life have gone, and it's just Dan and I, our presence illuminated by streetlights and glowing signs of the shops nearby in the cold London breeze. I swipe away a part of hair that had been blown from it's spot by the wind.

He purses his lips. "...I've learned to appreciate the little things in life, the things that people take for granted, the things people don't notice when they drive by or the things they pass by texting on their mobile phones and what not," he continues. "Those things that make life worth living for, those things you just want to stare at forever, those beautiful things and moments that you've just got to love." he keeps an emotionless expression, looking back up at the sky. "You're in a situation you can repair, but _me?_ I've gone too far to come back."

A deep pit in my heart opens with his words and I feel mesmerized. "...I'm pretty sure I understand," I say softly, putting my hands in my lap.

He laughs at his sudden change of character and looks beside him again, just below my chest, and I stare at him. He bites his lip as deep cocoa eyes meet my icy blues. He has a gorgeous complexion, I can confirm that right now, and dimples rise on his face when he smiles and stands up, putting his hands back into his pockets.

I sigh and stand up along with him, "Come back to my flat, Dan," I suggested with a half-hearted smile. "I don't want to see you on the streets any longer." we start walking in one direction.

He puts a hand up and shakes it gently, "Oh, no, my candle wax has all been melted, Phil."

I stare at him, confounded.

He smiles and sighs heavily, his breath becoming one with the air and rising up. "I've gotta let go at some point, right?"

I don't register his thinking at first, but I soon realize what he's implying. We stop walking, right over a bridge, and a 'tch' noise escaped my lips. "I can't let you do this, Dan," I state.

"Do what? I never explained to you what is was I was going to do," he taunts.

An agitated expression covers my face. I raise both my hands and shrug in defeat. "Well, what are you doing?"

He pauses and itches the back of his head with a free hand. "I...well, I guess you could say I'm off to make new discoveries," he continues. "I'm going to find myself." he turns away, taking a step before stopping and shifts his weight from the front of his feet to the back, repeatedly. He intakes, "I don't know where to go," he says as he lets the air out. "But I hope I make it somewhere."

I surrender once again, not knowing what to do anymore. "...Alright, Dan," I sigh and smile warmly. "Good luck."

He does the same gesture as I made to the bartender, putting the sides of two fingers to his forehead and tilts them off in my direction, turning his head slightly and smirking. He starts to walk in the other direction over the bridge, then jogging, then running, completely disappearing into the night as the streetlights went off.

I smile. "That kid has been here before," I laugh before turning around and walking off towards the city.


End file.
